Don't Forget
by takealookinsideabook
Summary: Frerard. Christmas celebrations all round! But Frank just isn't feeling it this year and he knows why. Drunken kisses lead to tears and confusion, but will things come together in the end?
1. Chapter 1

Frank watches as the snow litters the ground, covering every surface in white. He smiles a little, the thought of a white Christmas made him happy. But nothing was perfect, not in Frank's life. He would be spending the rest of his life yearning. Desperately trying to reach out, grab someone's attention. There's a flicker of movement outside, and his eyes find their way to Gerard and Mikey shoving eachother in the snow, huge smiles smothering their faces.

Frank's posture wavers, and his legs wobble ever so slightly, so he grips the edge of the windowsil tighter. He disappears up to his room before they come in to the house they all share. His room is nothing special, the usual things with a few band posters. He sighs gently, grabbing his acoustic guitar before settling onto his bed cross-legged. He strums a few chords before deciding that he didn't really want to play, he wasn't in the mood.

He can hear them talking downstairs in loud, cheerful voices, and he doesn't want to ruin the Christmas spirit so he stays in his room. He thinks back to when his feelings hadn't gotten in the way for him so much, when he could plaster a smile on his lips until he got into his room where he'd cry until he fell asleep. He had been younger, possibly more hopeful, but in love. He still was.

He was still in love with his best friend.

"Oh god," The thought is choking, and he clamps a hand over his mouth, cramming down the sob that wants to escape. In _love_ with his _best friend_. He was a horrible, disgusting person. But Gerard wasn't.

Gerard was beautiful. He was sweet and cared so much about everything and everyone, even the assholes. He couldn't ever be mean back to the people that had bullied him in school. He was passionate, about art, music, _life_. He had a smile that could make Frank forget about everything, just for a moment. His hair, even though it was long and getting far too greasy, it was just him. Everything about Gerard made Frank fall in love a little more.

Frank thinks he hears his name downstairs, but thinks nothing of it as he gets up to start getting ready for the party they were having tonight. Time to get into the Christmas mood, he thinks.

* * *

The beer had set a buzz over him, he felt relaxed and happy, and maybe a little dizzy. He was drunk, obviously, he knew that. He stumbles across the kitchen, getting another drink and taking a sip before spilling most of it on the floor. He shrugs, oh well, and makes it into the living room without falling over. It's pretty packed, and the sofas are all taken up, so he decides to go to his bedroom. He hears his name over the music as he passes the one seater, and grabs onto the window sill to hold himself up as he turns.

"Frankie, c'mere," Gerard is reaching his hand out, newly bleached white hair slightly messed up, and Frank takes it, falling onto his lap clumsily. They both giggle, because yeah they're definitely both fucking wasted, and Frank nuzzles his neck. "Don't kill me okay," Gerard hiccups, before putting a hand on the side of Frank's face and managing to guide his lips to Frank's. It's clumsy and unco-ordinated, but still gentle and Frank opens his mouth to greet Gerard's tounge and Gerard holds onto Frank's waist, letting Frank straddle him properly.

When they part, Frank sort of just drags his lips across Gerard's cheek.

"Your hair is really fucking cool, okay," He slurs, pressing his mouth to Gerard's neck. Gerard giggles, hands suddenly gone from Frank's hips.

"I'm gunna puke," Is Frank's warning before he's pushed to the side, he catches himself on the arm of the sofa, before Gerard runs to the bathroom. Frank shrugs and smiles, licking his lips before passing out.

* * *

When he wakes, he groans and closes his eyes, shutting out the light. His head ached so bad, oh god. Most of the night was a blur, just beer after beer, Gerard's fucking hair and then-

Oh. Oh shit.

He kissed Gerard. Or Gerard kissed him. Whatever, there'd been kissing and Frank remembered it and oh god, what was he going to do? What if Gerard never wanted to speak to him again, what if he threw away their friendship over a kiss?

What if Gerard didn't remember it?

That was the best thing that could happen, as much as Frank hated to admit it. Maybe he could act like he didn't remember too. Maybe.

He eventually opens his eyes, still in the armchair and groans as he sits up, his back clicking and aching. He didn't really know what to do, so he did what he does best and made coffee. Luckily everyone else had gone and Mikey and Gerard were asleep. He drinks his coffee quickly and then disappears to his room to change into clean clothes.

He's not sure how things will go when Gerard wakes up. He's nervous, to say the least. He hoped Gerard would remember, but he didn't too. He didn't want Gerard to be angry at him, or even upset, because it could destroy their friendship. God, he was shitting himself.

It's not long until Gerard stumbles into the kitchen, eyes half-shut and hair sticking up. He goes straight for the coffee maker and Frank just watches him, a slight frown playing on his lips.

"Mornin'," Gerard grumbles, rubbing his eyes. "Fuck, last night was crazy,"

Frank laughs a little high-pitched. "Yeah,"

"I can't even remember what happened, shit," Gerard laughs and Frank can feel his heart just _shatter_. He didn't remember, of course he didn't. Frank bites his lip until it bleeds, he couldn't cry, not here. Gerard sips his coffee before sighing as he rubs his forehead. "I'm going back to bed,"

"Okay," Frank's voice is quiet and he stares at the countertop as Gerard leaves and he hears his bedroom door shut a few moments later. He doesn't know why it hurts him so much, he never really had a chance with Gerard, not in this lifetime, not in any lifetime. He closes his eyes, feeling the wetness streak down his cheeks. He rubs at them, but they continue as he gets his shoes on and heads for the door. Mikey's coming down the stairs as he opens the front door.

"Frank, hey wait-" Mikey grabs his arm, but Frank pulls away.

"Don't, Mikey, please," Frank backs out of the door and lets it shut behind him before he runs.


	2. Chapter 2

He doesn't go far. He ends up at the pier, staring at the waves as the wind whipped his hair across his face. The tears have stopped, but the damp, low feeling hung over him heavily. He watches the waves overlap and thinks about how they'd never stop. They'd be together forever, overlapping and floating back out to rejoin again countless times, becoming one. Happily doing as nature put them. Frank closes his eyes, exhaling slowly. He shoves his hands in his coat pockets, shrinking back into his hood more.

"You're such a fucking dick," He mutters at himself angrily, curling his mouth up in disgust. He was a stupid, pathetic person, in love with their fucking best friend. He needed to move on, forget about how he felt for good.

His phone buzzes in his pocket, and when he sees Gerard's name light up the screen, he flips the screen open and reads the text.

_Where are you?_

He scowls at the screen, rereading the text before stretching his arm back and flinging the phone over the railing. He watches with a satisfied smile as it plopped into the sea, disappearing into the depths. It quickly turns into a frown. He looks down at the wood below him, scuffing the toe of his shoe on it before flicking his eyes back out to the never-ending sea.

The wind blows his hood down, and he shivers at the immediate cold. He doesn't put it back up. The snow was a thin layer on the ground, and it had mostly gone from the pier. He still wasn't sure why he'd chosen the pier, he wasn't going to doing anything ridiculously stupid. Maybe it was because he knew it would be empty. He liked the comforting sound of the sea, the constant but gentle _swoosh-swoosh_ of the waves. It relaxed him.

He concentrates on the sound, letting the anger and hurt drain from him, ignoring the faint sounds of cars driving past back up by the shore. Of course, he doesn't hear one stop and the door slam. The person runs, because that's all they can think of doing, they run all the way down the pier until they slam into Frank, wrapping their arms around his waist and yanking back until they were on the floor. Frank flails for a moment, having yelped embarrassingly when they'd thrown themselves into him.

It's Gerard. Of course it's Gerard.

"Don't-" Gerard gasps for air, smoking and running did _not_ go together _at all_. "You can't do this-"

_"What?"_ Frank gapes at him, knowing what Gerard was trying to say. "You thought I was going to fucking kill myself?" He shouts, because there's no-one around he's fucking angry. He crawls out of Gerard's grasp, scrambling to his feet and pushing his hair from his face just for it to blow back.

"You were-"

"I _wasn't_," Frank growls, stepping back more when Gerard stands too, finally having his breath back. Gerard tries to grab him, but Frank backs himself against the railing.

Gerard just breathes for a moment, the fear and panic slowly escaping. He'd seen Frank stood at the end of the pier and nearly screamed, he just _couldn't lose Frank_.

"Mikey told me what I did, I'm sorry, okay, I'm so fucking sorry I didn't mean-"

"Sorry?" Frank sneers, staring at him in disbelief. "How can you be sorry for something you can't fucking remember!" Gerard runs his hands through his hair, cursing. He wanted to remember. He wanted to remember the feel of Frank's lips on his own, he wanted to remember his taste, his smell. He wanted to remember Frank pressed up against him on the one-seater, but he didn't and he regretted even having one drink.

Frank shakes his head, mumbling under his breath as he pulls his hood back up and pushes passed Gerard. He walks fast, quick on his feet as he rushes to get away from Gerard.

How could Gerard be sorry for something that had been wiped from his memories? In fact, he was sure it had never been there anyway. He'd been wasted, they both had, but Frank could remember everything, whereas Gerard was the opposite. He rubs at his mouth, growling in frustration at the faint taste still there.

"Frank, Frank wait, please," Gerard runs after him, moving around him to block his way. "Please just let me explain-"

"You don't remember!" Frank practically screams, feeling on the verge of hysterics. "We kissed, I remember - you don't!"

"Then give me something to remember!" Gerard begs, moving closer to him.

"Why?" Frank feels the anger drain out of him, and his throat feels tight. He could give Gerard a number of things to remember. "Why should I not be fucking punching you right now?"

Gerard's hands hug his cheeks gently, whiping the tears that Frank didn't realise were there, and leaning his forehead against Frank's. "I know you feel the same, Frank, okay. I know you do," Frank's eyebrows crease together as he frowns. "Frankie, just. Please,"

"You initiated it, y'know," He says, blinking like an owl at Gerard. Gerard freezes for a moment, raising an eyebrow at the younger man. Frank's lips twitch, a mischievous gleam in his eye, and Gerard watches the tiny movement, stomach stinging as the butterflies inside increased.

Frank swallows, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth as if he was biting it. He was really just wetting it as he pushed onto his tip-toes. Gerard meets him halfway, catching Frank's lips under his own and Frank's breath hitches in his throat. It's nothing like their drunken kiss, the complete opposite really. Their lips move slowly against eachother, hands clinging at waists and shoulders and necks.

When they break apart, they blink at eachother for a second before bursting into laughter. At what, they aren't sure. Frank drops his head onto Gerard's shoulder, giggling uncontrollably and lets himself be pulled in closer by hands on his waist. Gerard's laugh echoes in his ears and he wants the sound to repeat, over and over because he could never get tired of it.

The wind is still strong, whipping their around and curling it around the other's, almost tangling.

Frank looks out to the sea again, still in Gerard's embrace, and thinks, maybe they could be like the waves.


End file.
